


25 or 6 to 4

by Magpiedance



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Murder, Other, Poltergeists, Voyeurism, consensual cuckolding, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpiedance/pseuds/Magpiedance
Summary: You moved into the house of a long-since dead serial killer. They assured you it was definately not haunted.
Relationships: Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	25 or 6 to 4

**Author's Note:**

> In case the tags were unclear: potential triggers for domestic abuse ahead. Nothing too graphic.

You draw your hands sensually down the chest of the man straddled between your thighs on the bed. You smile fondly at him and he grips your waist a little tighter.

He does not know it yet but he is going to die tonight.

He calls you 'Babe' and pushes up into you but you're not listening to _him_.

There's another hand on your body. A light touch, curled around your neck. The suggestion of teeth at your ear. A whisper; describing all the things your phantom accomplice will do to this man. All of the things he _deserves_.

You should never have bought this house.

The Murder House.

That's what the local kids call it.

The estate agent was very particular to mention that the rumours concerning the body of the previous owner being found in a freezer in the basement were _completely_ unfounded. Not untrue, though, you're pretty sure.

You needed a fresh start. You didn't have a lot of money for a deposit and no one wanted this place. It seemed like kismet.

How would anyone from your old life ever track you here?

But they did.

One did.

The one person you hoped to never see again. He grabbed you so hard there were perfect finger-shaped bruises on your wrist for a week. And then in front of your very eyes-

You couldn't understand what was happening.

One moment he was screaming; rabid. The next – in the next moment his face was white and he was whimpering as his intestines were spilling into his unclenched hands. He was just _open_ suddenly. Like someone had unzipped the front of a costume but instead of skin underneath there was MEAT and VISCERA.

You should have left.

If you'd had any sense you would have left that very moment. You would have run out of the front door and never looked back.

You don't know what came over you. You don't know what possessed you that night (a poor choice of words really) but when presented with the disembowelled body of your violent ex, bleeding out on the floor, you picked yourself up and on unsteady legs you climbed the stairs to your bedroom, closed the door, and went to sleep. You never even took the time to clean the blood spatter from your clothes.

It was the most soundly you'd slept in months.

You never wondered if you'd dreamed the whole thing. Even the next morning when you came downstairs and found the body gone and the carpet clean you never doubted what you'd seen.

It hadn't been the first strange occurrence.

Things had moved. The sound of a hushed foreign language in the middle of the night. You swear that as you'd been standing in the kitchen you'd felt someone stroke your hair.

Nothing like this, though.

It was undeniable to you now that the spirit in this house was violent. You might be next. There was no reason to think it wouldn't do the same to you.

Or...

Even now you can scarcely believe this was your own idea. You never knew you were capable of this. Of thinking of a thing like this.

You were so nervous the first time you threw up before, but not because you were afraid of what might happen to you. You were afraid it wouldn't work. You were afraid he would get away.

You never know the real name of the person who told you about him. Throwaway email accounts, hidden chatrooms, the dark web. It's sickening how easily you found someone just in the same city.

He was a real brute, your first deliberate victim. Your anonymous informant, who never showed you their face, showed you the x-ray. Spiral fracture. You wanted to geld that bastard with your teeth.

You took him home with bedroom eyes and filthy promises and waited. And waited.

You were beginning to panic and he was beginning to show his true colours. It hadn't been at all what you planned for. And then there was a knife on the kitchen counter. It hadn't been there before, you know that for sure.

You took a deep breath and closed your fingers around the handle.

The brute had laughed at you.

'What do you think you're going to do with that?'

You had no idea, but you were ready, and apparently that was enough. By the time you had turned around he was already on the floor, with blood gushing from a deep wound in the back of his leg. He was _screaming_. You will never forget how that first one screamed.

Apparently the previous owner really beefed up the soundproofing in this building.

You dropped the knife you were so relieved. You sank to the floor steadied against the cabinets to slow your descent. You never looked away, barely even blinked. Spontaneous gashes appeared from the open air with an intensity and hunger that filled you with equal parts horror and wonder.

And when it was done, when all that was left of him was unrecognisable as even human, that's when you felt strong hands grip your face; lips upon your lips and a tongue that tasted of copper demanding entry.

You closed your eyes.

Rough, strong hands touched you everywhere and not at all gently. You were dragged to completion, leaving you spasming with aftershocks even as the pool of blood on your kitchen floor began to cool.

You heard him speak for the first time then.

He had only one instruction.

'More'.

You remember with clarity the first time you fucked one of them in front of him. It was never part of the plan but it gave you such a feeling of power to think they believed they were using you and all the while you were murdering them. With a simple act of seduction you had already killed them. It excites him to watch. Almost as much as it excites him when you watch him take his turn. You figured that out early, the more you excite him the more brutal he is with them and you don't want to stop. You never want to stop.

He tells you to go harder, ride them faster. He makes you goad them into being rough with you.

He likes to see that.

Not too rough though. It's honestly the thing that makes you most wonder if you've lost your mind: you truly trust that he'll step in if you're in any real danger.

If nothing else you suspect he gets off on the pretence of chivalry.

The police inevitably come.

They ask you questions and then they come back with a warrant. They bring dogs. You feel utterly calm. You can feel him smiling into the back of your neck and you know they will never find anything. As soon as they are gone he bends you over the dinner table and fingers you so aggressively that you end up elbowing the fruit bowl onto the floor sending its contents skidding across the floor in all directions.

Fruit, apparently, you have to clean up yourself.

The man pawing at you now installed a secret camera in his employees toilet.

Pervert.

You take your pleasure from him and then watch as your lover strangles him with piano wire so thoroughly that it nearly decapitates him.

Unthinkingly you lick arterial spray from your lips and find yourself barrelled over under the weight of a body that you cannot see. Your mouth is utterly ravaged as the abandoned corpse slides off the bed with a thud.

Realistically you know this can't last forever.

You can't imagine an ending that works out well for you.

The more you think about it-

The more you think about it the more you realise that you don't really care.

**Author's Note:**

> [25 or 6 to 4](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jC3nsYGGEYw), Chicago. I haven't slept in a couple of days so there's a decent chance I'll end up editing this once I've had some sleep.


End file.
